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Horoscopes for 9-22-2026
Thus time we waste, and long leagues make short; Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for’t, Making, to take our imagination, From bourn to bourn, region to region. By you being pardoned, we commit no crime To use one language in each several clime Where our scenes seems to live. I do beseech you To learn of me, who stand i’ th’ gaps to teach you, The stages of our story. Gower (chorus) in Shakespeare’s Pericles (IV.iv.1-9)
Horoscopes for 9-22-2026
Fall Equinox 9/22 at 7:06 PM Full Moon Virgo/Pisces 22°25’ 9/26 11:49 PM Mars into Leo 9/27 9:48 PM
Horoscopes for 9-22-2026
Year overview, in short: the long form.
Libra
This last time I was in a dentist’s office. Along one wall, there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of file folders, color-coded tabs running the length of the wall’s shelving. It was a filing system, made me think of an eye doctor I used to frequent, exact same filing system, a wall with nothing but file folders, each color-indexed with various tabs that meant something. It was the filing system itself that fascinated me. Because I’ve been at this long time, I have filing system, too. Not exactly the same, but similar in structure. I did try color coding, but found that it didn’t work, and which blue should I use for Libra? Not really what this is about, I was thinking about how to stack up data points in Libra land, given the planets, where they are. How do you organize and sort that pertinent data? Happy birthday.
Scorpio
Shakespeare’s Gower referred to the English poet Gower, and in the play, a really late romance? He served as a chorus, to tie up and tie together seemingly disconnected plot elements. Effective enough, in the constraints of the play itself, but also as a source of material — stage directions — and filler, so the audience can keep up with the action and location. I would guess, then, this is the Elizabethan (Jacobean) Theatre version of the little lines drawn on map, showing where the character is going to be next. Modern version might be a plane taking off then landing someplace different, as a visual clue. Scorpio needs some visual clues, and if those are not obvious, then dig around. In that play, Pericles? The chorus offers information about what is happening so the audience can keep up.
Sagittarius
Take a deep, Sagittarius, breath. Exhale slowly. “Not my rodeo, not my bull to ride.” All better. It’s a really simple breathing exercise, doesn’t require much, and there’s another version, from Mark Twain, a fellow Sagittarius, “When angry, count four, when very angry, swear.” I still prefer my own version, better, “Not my rodeo; not my bull to ride.” Use as need be as there will someone trying to rope your Sagittarius selves into something where we might not want to go.
Capricorn
Filling out a medical questionnaire, I was queried about my coffee consumption. I make an about 6-8 cups of coffee in the morning, most mornings. Split two ways, that’s half a liter, or 500 ml, a little less than a 16 ounces per person. Of that? I tend to drink five or six espresso-sized mugs of coffee. At less two ounces each? I’m around 10 or 12 ounces of coffee, or just one jumbo-sized to-go cup from a convenience store. Emotionally, I feel like I’m slamming cup after cup of coffee. In reality? I’m drinking one, large mug. All depends on how one measures it. Emotionally, the little espresso cups are far more fulfilling. Stays warm the right amount of time, looks good, and it satisfies my older notion when I would drink gallons of coffee in order to complete my morning rounds. But this is about what it looks like, what it feels like, and then what is actually there. It’s about measuring, measurements, and communicating what’s there.
Aquarius
Some time back, I stumbled on a couple of blank books, the usual size I tend to favor, notebooks, and instead of graph paper or dots, which I prefer? The pages were lined with cartoon/storyboard squares. I bought a couple of the notebooks, thinking I could use them. I tried. No, really, I tried. Cool-looking, excellent idea, and once again, I’m not a visual artist. I use notebooks for hand-scratched notes to myself, rough stick figures and curlicues to convey information, mostly only useful for myself. But those blank notebooks with the cartoon/storyboard rectangles, I tried. I really did put forth an effort, and buried in the weblogs, or social media posts, someplace, there are a few example of my efforts. What I thought I could do, I would use the storyboard style to tell the plot and direction of the planets, and doing so in cartoon format would help. Great idea. Ultimately failed in execution, but what is important for an Aquarius take-away? One? I tried a new format. Two? The older format serves my style just fine. It wasn’t a failure so much as a learning experience about what does — and doesn’t — work for Aquarius.
Pisces
There’s “fully-developed,” and more common phrase (for me), “half-assed.” There was an idea I had, and in the moment, that single idea seemed like a good plan. Seemed sound enough. My problem? The concept wasn’t fully developed yet. Nascent plans, think: a rough sketch on napkin, maybe. Concept itself sounded whole and complete, but the individual steps, the implementation of the thought process I employed? There were some holes in my logic. The timing on this is what should apply to the Pisces portions of an astrology chart. Differentiate between “fully-developed” and “half-assed;” figure it out before you start implementation. From my own, personal experience? “It seemed like a good idea at the time” is not really a valid excuse for an untested hypothesis.
Aries
As an example? I was working at one the shops where I’ve worked through the twilight years of this career. I was up and stretching my legs, ambling through the shop and there was an itch, in the middle of my back. I gradually stopped, facing away from a corner in the room, back up to the room’s sharp edge and gentle rotated my back against that corner. Got it. The spot I couldn’t quite reach, not doing enough yoga, and that itch would bother me the rest of the week? A quick pass at a single corner, a little shimmy, and problem solved. It’s about that itch you can’t reach. It’s about that one spot that no amount of contortions can get to, but a simple act like backing up to a corner’s edge? There’s a simple way to reach that itch you can’t seem to scratch, for Aries, but there’s also a larger question, about scratching that itch. In my simple example, it was fine. However, if there is an itch you can’t reach, and it’s not really a distraction, do you pause long enough to reach it? Or just let it be?
Taurus
I was on a technical website, a blog posting of great interest to me. Good material, well-thought out, presented in an easily digestible manner, and the content itself? To the point, and more to the point? A minor technical issue that I found fascinating. I would link to the article, but the presentation of the material was greatly hindered by pop-up, pop-over advertising, and the top, bottom, and sidebars were covered in advertising. I like advertising, positive cash flow, and I understand the desire to monetize, but when the material is so buried in useless flashy “ad-imation?” It was such a niche market, too, so I doubt that the limited traffic really pays for that advertising. Poking through the marketing, ad hype, hyperbole, and flashing lights? Nuggets of useful data, but also, other than me, I’m not sure too many people will see that because of the layers of ads. The Taurus message is about when to do something, or more important, when not to do something. Like, how there’s no link because it was too much advertising, and not enough content. The content was exceptional, just, you know, too hard to find.
Gemini
Clarity and focus? Sure, there is that. But seriously? The best choices are always off, just ever so slightly, from what is right in front of your Gemini selves. It helps if it is right in front of you, but the way this works, it’s a little off to one side. Should be right in front, that works best. It’s not. As the Sun shifts into Libra, as we pass the autumn equinox, there’s a point where there’s some material that’s easier for Gemini to discern. That works. The problem is the positioning of the material. I like it when the symbolism is plain, clear, and without obfuscation. For Gemini? It is plain, clear, and without obfuscation. The kicker, the sticking point, the burr under your saddle? It’s not right in front, like it should be. Off to one side, just a little.
Cancer
Interesting question, the other evening, “You’re ex-military, aren’t you?” I was standing there, attired in my normal uniform, Hawaiian shirt, shorts, sandals, and I answered, “No.” Technically, I was never part of the armed services, although I did spend two years in a paramilitary environment, where I did learn chain of command, ranks, rights, follow orders, and shine your shoes. Make your bed. But no, not officially military. The question was following a comment about service, and I asked the guy if he’d been in a certain theatre of operations, think that bounced off his head, and left him thinking I was ex-military. As the days start to unfolds, right past the Fall Equinox, Cancer, the moon children get people making reasonable assumptions about your crab-like self based upon observations. Like me, as I’ve been military adjacent for the bulk of this career. The old air base in Austin (fighter jets from Rock the Casbah), San Antonio’s military complex, and El Paso’s Ft. Bliss?
The Leo
I recall the first time I encountered a Mark Twain quote, a funny little aphorism. “When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear.” The first time it amused me. But later, I found that there is great truth in the pithy expression. Mr. Mars is on approach, if he hasn’t already arrived for the individual Leo. He incites a degree of rash and angry words, a torrent of impatience, loosed upon the world by a wrathful Leo. I can still hear a buddy, looking at an outboard motor, parts strewn across the garage floor, “You done piss me off now,” and he grabbed a pocket-sized sledge hammer, ready to pound a particular piece into submission.
Pink Cake: The Quote Collection

Pink Cake: A Commonplace Book

Or smash it into thousands of useless bits of metal. Is that the best way? Again, I point to the sage (Sagittarius) Mark Twain: “When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear.”

Virgo
If birthdays, and this last birthday month is about broad generalizations? Then the immediate road ahead is about Virgo drilling down on just one idea. “Like a dog with a bone,” not to use that old saw. But yes, “Like a dog with a bone.” Simply put, grab one idea, a single thread, a simple situation, and instead of looking for any extraneous, outside influences or other outward distractions? Drill down on that one. See, the analogy holds up well as you latch on that problem, “like a dog with a bone,” as sooner, or later, the bone gives way to the rich, flavorful marrow. But in order to get your Virgo self there? It’s like a “dog with a bone,” gnawing your way through a single issue.